The Death of Superman
by Angel Monroe
Summary: If there was one thing he hated, it was to see the girl cry. But tonight at least, the tears weren’t of his making. Angsty oneshot set during 2.22. LoVe. Spoilers 2.22.


**The Death of Superman  
**by Angel Monroe

_Disclaimer: I gave my soul to God for the book I'm writing. I have nothing left to barter for Veronica Mars. In other words, unfortunately, I don't own it. _

_A/N: Yeah, so, I'm in love with writing short, dramatic, angsty one-shots. Sue me. This one is set during 2.22, after the roof and before breakfast. LoVe, of course. Definitely not much with the fluff, though. _

He stroked her hair gently as she drifted off to sleep, hating the salty tearstains on her cheeks. If there was one thing he hated, it was to see the girl cry. But tonight at least, the tears weren't of his making.

Her body was broken, both mentally and physically.

Learning that she had in fact been raped, even so long ago, had been an irreversible blow. He'd seen the pain and hate when she'd pointed the gun at Cassidy, listing his crimes while she'd sobbed for each one. Over the last year, she'd grown accustomed to the idea that the rape hadn't happened. It was just a misunderstanding, something that she and Duncan had gotten through together. The realization that that security was the imagined part hit her like an aftershock more powerful than the quake.

But her body, too, was weak. There was a reason Veronica had always kept her tazer close—it did its job when the bad guys came. Having had it turned on her small body…well, once initial adrenaline had worn off, she hadn't been able to stand on her own. The paramedics had seen no permanent damage, but he'd had to carry her to the car. And even that was painful, her stomach tender and welted from each violent jolt of electricity.

She hadn't spoken since they left Mac's room. Even when the police questioned her, she'd merely nodded and shook her head to multiple choice questions until they'd agreed to let her sleep on it. The car ride back to her place was all whimpers and sudden, gasping sobs as she'd realized again and again that her father wouldn't be there when they arrived. At the door of the eerily quiet apartment, she'd collapsed and he'd carried her again, holding her like a child and whispering into her hair.

He could say that he knew how she felt, and it was almost true. His mother's death had been the most traumatic event of his life. She'd been his only advocate, his only solace growing up, until the strain had gotten too heavy and she'd taken to gin and tonics. He'd wanted always to protect her from his father, and when he'd failed, part of him had died with her.

But what Veronica had with her dad, it was different. Keith had been literally all she had for so long. When her best friend was murdered, when her friends ostracized her, when her mother bolted…he had been her support, her security, her life. No matter what happened, he had always been there to save her. And Logan finally realized that that was worth all the hell he and the rest of Neptune had put her through after Lilly's death. That was why she'd picked Keith's side.

_And now what?_ Even asking the question seemed wrong somehow. Sacrilegious.

He watched as her face contorted in her sleep, her lips parting on a whispered, "Dad?" before her eyes opened slowly. She looked at him a moment, took a few gasping breaths, and then closed her eyes against a fresh wave of grief.

"It's okay," he whispered, knowing it was a lie as gathered her tighter against him. "I've got you."

"He's not coming home this time," she cried into his shoulder, and he remembered her telling him once that Keith had only ever made her one promise. Back when he'd started working the PI angle and chasing bad guys all over the world, he'd made her a promise that he would always come home. Now he wouldn't.

"I know that I'm not him," he told her, emotion bleeding his throat dry, "but I'm here. I promise you, I'll always be here."

She cried harder, clutching his shirt like it was her last link to sanity. Maybe it was. He didn't mind, as long as she stayed on his side of the line.

_A/N: A couple people asked about the book I mention in my disclaimer and I wanted to explain it a little. I recently finished a six-month road trip around the United States to collect information on a Christian book I'm writing. Thus, selling my soul to God. It's still in the works, though I keep getting distracted by these damned VM ideas. Ha ha ha. Thanks for reading._


End file.
